


I'm thinking about coming home

by bornobsession



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cooking, M/M, No More Pining, Shower Sex, Someone stop me, Their first time, Trying to be domestic, fail at cooking, it seems im unable to write pure fluff without adding angst, should be fluffy but my hands got away from my
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornobsession/pseuds/bornobsession
Summary: Unspoken feelings finally spill over. Monty struggles with overcoming bad habits, but he's trying, god knows he's trying.
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague & Percy Newton, Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	I'm thinking about coming home

_In the soft part of the night, I found you. I've come home._

There’s a moment between dreaming and waking where all thoughts can’t be trusted to be true. It’s the slow blinking of eyes, the stretching of limbs, the rush of sound and smell and touch and everything beautiful. Monty loves waking like this in the morning, slow and gentle, like the world is easing him into his day. Soft snoring fills the room, and it mingles with the songbirds chirping outside the window. 

Monty turns toward the source, worming his way into the body beside his, the covers bunching up and almost covering his face completely. The soft glow of sunlight leeks through, catching the light pink hue of the sheets, and for a moment, it feels like a different world altogether. It’s stuffy and hot underneath the blanket, but being wrapped up and encased in utter warmth is something new and different and _wonderful_. Monty’s never woken up to anyone who’s slept with him and stayed for the morning after. 

He pokes a finger out, running it over and over Percy’s bare chest, tracing lines and shapes, then letting his whole hand splay out above his heart. Monty pulls his knees into his stomach, his body gravitating to a fetal position. Their legs tangle beneath the blankets, and lord, _this_ is what getting tangled up in someone is really supposed to mean. Monty hooks an ankle around Percy’s, shimmying down so he can rest his cheek against Percy’s shoulder, the lean sinews of muscle rising and falling with each breath. The blanket doesn’t quite reach the base of Percy’s neck, and from Monty’s vantage point, he can see a sliver of light from the gap between the fabric and Percy’s skin. Beautiful freckles blossom across his chest, a smattering of constellations, each mark beautiful in its own right. Monty can just make out the cleft of Percy’s chin, the stubble already starting to grow in despite his last shave two days ago. 

Monty shivers, the previous night’s memories surfacing whole and untainted.

He remembers a rather uneventful night in the city, nothing really catching their interest but neither of them ready to turn in just yet. They had abandoned any hopes for entertainment in town, driving all the way to the fields near the farmland to stargaze. Even that plan had been thwarted as dark clouds weaved in and out around the moon, not quite shrouding the night in shadow, but just enough to become a bit bothersome for indulging in the cosmos above.

  
  


Both of them had wandered through the meadow of wildflowers, the coarse grass almost up to their shoulders, fingers linked together to find their way through the darkness. He remembers the river, its cold splash as they jumped in for a swim only to find the water reached waist-deep at most (to the top of the ribcage for Monty), laughing under the silvery moonlight. He remembers clinging to Percy in the cool water, drunk with pleasure, confessions spilling out, like a spring had suddenly welled up inside him, overflowing and providing much sought after relief.

He remembers rearing back in surprise when Percy had kissed him, told him he felt the same, remembers the way his lips felt so soft and right against his own. Like he had found his home.

_I love you._

They tipped back into the water in their haste, and Monty cursed as his hair was submerged into the murky river. 

He remembers the way Percy’s laugh, crisp and light, had cut through the night. Monty had thought that even though they had missed the stars tonight, he somehow lucked out on the privilege of hearing how the twinkles of Percy’s laugh sparkled brighter than any constellation. Both of them crawled out onto the banks before scrambling back to the car, leaving soggy footprints behind, not even caring about the wet imprints they pressed into the car seats. 

Monty had almost lost control right then and there, climbing on top of Percy in the driver’s seat, dripping wet and shivering. But Monty is nothing if not a gentleman, and he refused to have his and Percy's first time in the backseat like some hormonal teenager. 

_Come home with me._

Percy nodded, eyes hooded, lips parted and just close enough to brush against Monty’s mouth, each time they touched creating goosebumps coursing over their entire bodies. 

The drive home felt like an eternity, and Monty was practically buzzing with the hum of the car. When they reached Monty’s apartment, Percy barely had time to park, before Monty was on him again, clumsily climbing over the gear shift. 

_“Not here, you tomcat. Let’s go inside.”_

Monty had led him by the hand, unable to walk side by side in the narrow stairwell, stumbling through his front door. Immediately they stripped off their wet clothes, and Monty tugged him into the shower to warm up and wash off the muck of the river. 

Percy eagerly followed, pulling the curtain back, steam already filling the room. He had turned around to find Monty, back pressed up against the cold tiles of the wall, staring back at him, the faintest smile growing across his lips. A bat of his eyelashes. The cross of his legs. Monty swallowed, aware of Percy’s racing heart—or maybe that’s just his—pounding in his chest. 

Percy leaned down, the water pattering against the white tiles. A hand reached out, yanking the curtains closed.

* * *

Monty finally pokes his head out from underneath the blanket, welcoming the change of cool air. Percy snores on, shifting in his sleep to throw an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the sunlight filtering through the windows. 

Monty looks around the room, the morning sun lighting up the air with its hazy orange glow. He takes in the smooth grain in the headboard, marveling at how it seems to match Percy’s skin tone perfectly.

A robin lands on the windowsill, directly in Monty’s line of sight, and he grins at the realness of it all. He watches the bird cock its head back and forth, seemingly lost, the wind ruffling its feathers. Beady eyes glint back at him. A second bird joins the first, chirping as it hops along. They still on the ledge for a moment, before both winged creatures take flight together and disappear. 

His mind wanders, thinking tirelessly of mornings upon mornings like this, soft and warm, with Percy by his side. For the first time in his life, Monty is finally excited about his future, already dreaming of a shared room, a shared apartment, a shared life as lovers. 

He should learn how to cook, if they are to be sharing a life together from now on. Monty imagines nights of surprise dinners and dine-in dates. No more takeout for himself, instead, homemade meals for two. He dreams of Percy eating from his dishes, lips touching his forks and spoons, slender fingers clutched around wine glasses, and a wave of possessiveness washes over Monty, bright and hot. The mere thought of sharing a space with Percy and just _being_ makes him giddy with anticipation. With hope. 

He glances at Percy's peaceful face, smiling to himself as snores continue to fill the room. The sound seems to soak into the walls, almost like the room itself is pulsing with content. And while Monty has spent many silent nights wide awake in the dark, mulling over his worst moments, perhaps it’ll be nice to finally drown out the voice in his head with something else. Something familiar.

The whole thing almost feels like a movie. Like a dream too good to be true. He cautiously pokes Percy again, the spot on his arm quickly turning a faint white from the applied pressure and back to creamy brown just as fast. 

He _feels_ real. Maybe _he’s_ the one dreaming. Monty shifts his weight to sit up halfway onto one elbow and pinches himself, a sharp squeeze on his arm proving that this is indeed reality. He shakes his head, finally resolving to let himself believe in his own happiness, no matter how unattainable it was before. 

He sits up, the blanket pooling around his waist, the soft silk slipping smoothly against bare skin. 

Monty can’t help but reach out one last time, brushing his knuckles along Percy’s angular cheekbones. A muscle in his cheek twitches, and Monty’s heart jumps with it.

He turns to squint at the clock set up across the room, disbelief shocking his system at the placement of the hour hand. 

Monty’s heart expands again, a warm and tingly feeling spreading through his body. He shifts, sliding on top of Percy so his long torso becomes encased between Monty’s legs. Percy ever-so-slightly stirs, finally re-entering consciousness. 

“Hi there, darling.”

Percy groans at the added weight on top of him, a smile nevertheless spreading across his face. 

“Are you hungry?”

Percy only nods his head, delivering incoherent noises that seemingly indicate a general sense of agreement, while the corners of his mouth curve up as if to say _ravenous, for you._ He wraps his arms around Monty’s back, swiftly turning to press him flush into the mattress. Displeased with the distance between them, Monty hooks his ankles behind Percy’s thighs, pulling their bodies closer till they are breathing the same air. 

A hand starts snaking its way up Monty’s bare thigh, past his stomach, chest, neck, before finally coming to a stop at his face. Percy spreads his fingers wide, his thumb brushing small circles into his cheekbone. 

Percy finally leans down, closing those last few long inches between them. Monty hums in satisfaction, before breaking away giggling. He feels light-headed with their closeness, borderline delirious.

He reaches up to try and kiss Percy again, unable to contain his laughs. Soon Percy is laughing with him, dipping his head into the crook Monty’s neck. His warm breath washes over Monty, and a tingle rushes through him, catching in his heart. 

“What’s got you so smiley today?” They both know the reason, and Monty realizes Percy is looking for a vocalization, a verbal confirmation that, yes, he is indeed the reason that Monty is waking up with a smile today.

Monty tries to answer, but realizes there is no way he can accurately put it into real words. It’s feeling so full yet always yearning for _more_ . It’s the feeling that absolutely bloody nothing could ruin this moment, that no matter how shitty life has been lately, it’s all worth it just for a sliver of _this_ . And after years of shrinking back into himself, it’s the feeling of finally taking a peek past the guarded walls and being met with a life full of light and laughs and _promise_. 

Instead, Monty only shrugs with an “oh nothing” that’s trying too hard to be nonchalant that Percy knows it can only be taken as a joking facade. He lets a silence settle over them, cradling Percy’s head to him, carding fingers through his coarse hair. 

They lay like that until Monty fears that Percy has gone back to sleep. He glances down, finding no reaction. Then, as if sensing Monty’s eyes on him, Percy tilts his chin up to meet Monty’s gaze, full of adoration. 

“Let’s make pancakes,” Percy suggests, a soft smile playing at his lips. 

And suddenly, Monty’s throat is closing up. The mere thought of having Percy to eat breakfast with the morning after, something seemingly so normal and domesticated, yet so new and foreign to Monty, catches him off guard.

“Ok,” he dips his head in agreement.

Neither of them show any notion of detaching themselves from the bed, and they let themselves lay there a few minutes more. Percy’s skin is just dark enough that the marks Monty had left there in the night barely show up as a faint, deep purple. His fingers trail up to his own neck, tracing the spots where Percy had suckled several patches of rosy red into his skin. Monty closes his eyes, imagining each spot blooming against his pale complexion like splashes of watercolor across blank paper. He doesn’t need a mirror to know just how beautiful they look, and it’s almost like he can feel Percy’s ghost touches lingering and gliding over his skin, even hours after he’s left them there.

* * *

Monty moans as Percy bites and sucks his way around his tender skin. He lifts a feeble hand to keep his mouth pressed to the hollow of his own throat, relishing the softness of Percy’s tongue, how it feels like pure fire burning through him, warm and perfect. 

Percy growls, deep and sinful, as he continues pushing into Monty, their bodies undulating together like they’re one collective being.

“Perce…” Monty voice trails off into a soft whimper, and he’s once again rendered completely incapable of thought. From his chest to his cheeks, Monty is flushed a soft pink, arousal evident in the way the color blossoms across his skin. 

He tries to speak again, but sound abandons him. His breath hitches, and it feels like he’s choking in the most delightful way, his hands grabbing everything he can touch—the sheets, Percy’s thighs, his own cock—roaming everywhere as if he’s a starved animal, desperate to experience the feel of everything at once. 

“Perce, I can’t—I have to—”

And suddenly, his vision turns white, the blood roaring in his ears as he feels his release tear through him, stealing the very breath from his lungs. Monty can feel his whole body shaking and trembling, entirely incapacitated by pleasure, each muscle clenching and unclenching as spams ripple through him. His mouth opens, trying to cry out, but his throat closes up and he’s left gasping for air. 

Monty’s back arches off the bed, head tilted back and pressed into the pillow, exposing the entirety of his neck. The head of Monty’s cock pushes forward, brushing against Percy’s stomach with each thrust. Percy still inside of him, rises to match the movement, eyeing the way the lump in Monty’s throat bobs up and down, transfixed on the hollow of his collarbone, the scrunch of Monty’s eyebrows, his open-mouthed moans. 

It feels like he’s falling through the sky, scrambling for purchase amongst the wispy white clouds, his heart sinking in his stomach and simultaneously lurching to his throat.

His hands flail, reaching for Percy’s, missing spectacularly, and almost hits him square in the jaw. Percy only chuckles, one of those breathy laughs from the nose, shaking his head before taking Monty’s hands in his own, fingers intertwined, clutching them so tight they turn white at the tips. He presses a light kiss to the back of his hand—or is that Percy’s? Monty can’t tell, they are so mixed up in each other that his body has become Percy's body, Percy’s heart has become his heart, forward and backwards, all the same. 

Monty’s eyes flutter open to find Percy looking down at him, utter adoration sparkling in his eyes, and _dear god_ , Monty might have actually died and gone to heaven. Percy, undeniably the angel, is coming to collect him for a lifetime of _this_. 

The light behind Percy frames his hair like a halo, and Monty is still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm, toes curled into the mattress, hands clutching at Percy’s wrists, just trying to find something to ground him. 

Percy reaches down, brushing Monty’s damp hair out of his eyes, and it’s almost like he’s looking at Percy the first time, like he’s falling in love for the first time, like his heart is bursting at the seams, already regrowing and giving itself up in its entirety to Percy. 

He smiles down at Monty, and god _that smile_. It’s so telling, every emotion written in that smile, down to the very dimples that are etched beside his lips.

“You okay?” Percy knows the answer but asks anyway.

Monty can only nod vigorously, unable to trust his shaky voice just yet. He tips his chin up, and Percy obliges, reaching down for a kiss.

”I think I just passed out,” he croaks. 

* * *

“No, I said gently!” 

The kitchen is filled with their shrieks of laughter as Percy tries to coach Monty through the process of mixing pancake batter. Monty’s face emerges from a puff of flour, which lingers in the air momentarily before dusting the floor.

“You have to gradually mix the wet and dry or else,” he gestures to the white powder settling on Monty’s nose, “ _this_ will happen.”

“Fine you do it then,” Monty jokingly snaps, shoving the bowl into Percy’s arms, spilling its contents all over the both of them. They freeze, staring at the mess, before Monty breaks out into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s it, it’s on!” 

Monty’s eyes widen, already turning to run. Percy grabs a handful of the mixture, catching him by the arm, and proceeds to smear a long white streak down Monty’s back. He reaches for the bowl again, dipping his hand in for more ammunition while Monty desperately tries to scramble away, but ends up falling to the ground trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

Percy falls with him, knocking over the remainder of whatever was left in the bowl, taking down an entire bottle of syrup and possibly an egg or two in the process. 

Percy sits atop Monty, pinning him to the floor, and resorts to tickling the bare skin exposed at his waistline. Monty’s entire body convulses, appendages flailing to protect him from the current onslaught of Percy’s long, slender fingers. In any other scenario, Monty would be savoring every moment of his bare skin touching his own, but there is currently a mixture of raw egg and syrupy-flour dangerously close to his hair, and he is doing everything in his power to get his precious locks as far away from the mess as possible. 

“Stop, please!” Monty manages to muster out in between screeches. “I’m begging, please!”

Percy grins, diving in for more. “Not good enough,” he teases.

“I’ll do anything! Whatever you want—” he breaks off giggling as Percy finds the soft spot just above his belly button. 

“Whatever I want?” And Monty might be imagining it, but there’s a wolfish simper already spreading from cheek to cheek. He doesn’t miss the twinkle in Percy’s eyes as slides off his lap, standing to tower over Monty on the floor. As if he didn’t seem tall enough before. 

And now Monty is left a little breathless for a completely different reason than their pseudo wrestling match; his mind is thrown back into last night, watching himself and Percy on the bed, as if he had left his own body, floating above like an all-seeing entity. From here he can make out the definition of Percy’s calves, just how tousled his hair looks. The dynamic changes then, a soft lull washing over them as they relax into each other. 

“Whatever you want,” Monty murmurs. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You have eggshell in your hair.”

Percy trails his fingers through soft, blond tufts of hair. Bits of white shell have entangled themselves between strands, and Percy bushes them off, watching them swirl down the shower drain. 

  
  


Monty sits before him on his knees, mouth stretched obscenely around Percy’s cock. He moans appreciatively, sinking further back on his haunches, practically melting underneath Percy’s exquisite touch. Monty tilts his head back further, letting Percy feed his cock to him. _More, more, more_. He wants as much of Percy as possible, relishing in the fact that he will be the only one in the universe to know what he tastes like, what he looks like when comes, what he sounds like when he moans.

And to top it all off, Percy doesn’t even seem aware of how every single delicious noise seems to wrap around Monty like pure satin, letting them spill out of him uncontrollably without abandon. 

It feels like he is being reborn here, under the hot spray of the shower, being able to meet Percy’s eyes. And then Monty decides, no even before this. He became a changed man the second he jumped in the river last night, letting the cool water wash away his sinful past. 

And if he really, _really_ , thinks about it, there wasn’t actually any one moment. More so a snowballing of lingering touches and sneaked glances when they thought the other wasn’t paying attention. A whole lifetime of spiraling out of place, slowly being drawn into each other’s orbit. And before they even had time to realize, there they were, circling each other, falling into the inevitable gravitational pull.

It’s a youth full of secrets and inside jokes, of wrestling and fighting (in jest and in earnest), of so many nights spent together that sleeping alone has become hard and uncomfortable. Not impossible, just… odd. 

And for the longest time, it felt like trying to jam the last puzzle piece in, but no matter how hard Monty pushes, it never fits quite right. Until now, he realizes that it’s the right piece, and the right spot for it, but he’d had the shape all flipped around. If he’d just turned it slightly to the left, it would’ve slid in perfectly, and in hindsight, Monty wants to bludgeon himself for taking so long to see it.

Monty spreads his legs even wider, his own cock erect and straining as he enthusiastically swallows all of Percy, drinking him down. He comes untouched, kneeling there on the shower floor, all the while emitting greedy little whines as he pushes Percy into a near sensory overload. 

Percy gasps, knees buckling as his hands fly to Monty’s shoulders, seeking any semblance of support. His nails leave faint half-moon imprints among the scattered freckles, a new development after a few weeks spent under the sweltering summer sun. 

“Fuck Monty, please,” Percy begs. A ghost of a laugh escapes past his lips, breathy and tight, as the overwhelming pleasure takes him by surprise. Like an unexpected heaven that completely sideswipes him. 

Monty finally obliges, pulling off with an audible _pop_. He feels his mouth go slack, and is suddenly overcome with the lack of control over any of his muscles. Monty can only sit there, eyes squeezed shut, already missing the weight of Percy’s cock in his mouth.

The words leave him in a rush, and even though he’s sure of their reception, of the response, he can’t help the splinter of doubt that lodges itself in his heart momentarily.

“I love you.” Monty waits in his own little world of darkness, yearning for Percy’s touch. For Percy.

A pair of lips envelop his own, soft and welcoming. A tongue slides against his. The feeling is indescribable. And it is now that Monty finally understands the gravity of what they’d done. From forever till infinity, his heart is Percy’s. To love and to ruin (he wouldn’t, of course, Monty knew) and so an inherent truth became clear: he is responsible for Percy’s happiness, his pleasure, in a way he could never fathom before. They’re _together_ now. The significance of this new side of their relationship settles on his shoulders, sinks into him until he can only pull away shakily. 

“You okay?” Percy asks, just as gentlemanly and genuine as he had last night. 

Monty sits there, stilled this time, unable to nod or even shake his head. And before he realizes, Percy is wiping away the tears rolling down his cheeks, which have mingled with the droplets of water still trickling their way down from his hair.

Percy presses their foreheads together, whispering so quiet it feels like Monty is the only person left in the world.

“What’s wrong darling?”

Monty tries to piece together the jumbled mess in his head, taking a moment to gather his remaining courage. Dysphoria settles in him, creeping inside like ice water. Only moments ago, Monty was reminiscing about last night. And now… now he can barely grasp at those memories, as if they occurred years ago, as if they occurred in a different world, to a different person.

Percy stands, reaching an arm down to help Monty up off the cold floor. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. You’re shivering.” 

Monty grasps his hand, but makes no notion to stand.

“Promise me something,” Monty pleads, begs, staring up at Percy’s concerned face. 

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll never hate me.”

And at that Percy softens at once. 

“And if you don’t love me, really, truly, love me, please don’t hate me.”

“What—”

“I know I’m selfish and I drink too much—I swear I’ll change—but please don’t hate me.”

“Monty, how could I ever hate you?”

“Just promise me.” 

“I promise.” He pauses to turn the water off, then jokingly quips, “I don’t hate you, far from it, actually.” Monty takes no notice at his lighthearted tone, pressing onward. 

“Maybe not _now,_ but what about tomorrow or next week, or next year? After I say all the wrong things, and do all the wrong things, and I’m never what you imagined to be like? Even then?

Percy can only laugh at the absurdity of what Monty is suggesting, which just makes him pout. A full lip curling-puppy-dog-eyed-pout that melts Percy inside out. It’s almost comical, really, how quickly they can switch between the serious moments and their natural banter. 

“Monty, I know you. And you know me. You know when I’m serious, I’m _serious._ You know that when I love something… or someone…” Percy swallows thickly. “I don’t give up on them.”

“I loved you years ago and I’ll love you years from now. And I won’t let you give up on us before we’ve even begun.”

Suddenly it registers to Monty that his questionable sobriety or his incompetence wasn’t the real problem. He hasn’t even given him and Percy a fighting chance, before trying to tear everything down. It’s in his blood. To destroy things. And Percy, dear god, Percy, is here giving him a chance to change. To be better. 

Monty allows Percy to lift him off the cold tiles. They stand there, listening to the slow drip of water still escaping from the showerhead. A comfortable silence ensues, as Percy pulls Monty to him.

“You were the one who put me back together.” He swallows thickly, trying to gather the courage to continue. “And I’m sorry you had to put up with me. While I was losing myself along the way.”

Percy shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Monty’s lips. “No,” Percy murmurs. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not in love with you _despite_ your past. Everyone has flaws and I love every part of you, bad things and all, okay?”

Monty nods, yet unable to meet his eyes. “Okay,” he whispers back. Something tears in him then, a part of him that has been engraved since birth, a part of his father, is finally being wiggled free.

“You didn’t lose yourself. There’s no other _version_ of you. You’re still Monty. You’ve always been Monty, and I’m in love with you, which, after years and years of hopeless pining, I don’t think I’m capable of changing.” Percy finishes with a small chuckle, waiting for his words to sink in. 

Monty smiles, feeling the tension leave his body, like a stream that has slowly run dry. He lets himself relax in Percy’s arms, and in one fell swoop, all his defenses and fiercely guarded fears begin dissolving. It’s a trust fall, but he’s blindfolded at the top of Everest, completely and utterly lost in even what direction to start in. And in spite of this, the darkness, he jumps anyway, confident that Percy will be there to catch him. 

“Not hopeless.”

* * *

“Copy everything I do.”

The pair of them are back in the kitchen, side by side, staring at the expansive ingredients set out before them. 

“ _Teach me how to cook.”_

Monty had asked him as Percy helped him get dressed, those big doe eyes appearing as Percy pulled the sweater past his face, eyelashes casting shadows upon his sun-kissed cheeks. His hair was slightly mussed and static-y from the friction, and when Percy bent down to kiss him, a shock jolted between them. 

“ _Of course.”_

One trip to the store later, Monty watches patiently as Percy demonstrates how to crack an egg, how to whisk them together, how to set the stove heating just right, and attempts to recreate the whole process himself. Every so often, Percy will reach out with a guiding hand to steady him.

_“Like this,”_ he says.

Yes, Monty thinks, just like this. He looks up, catching Percy’s eyes. A split second feels like a lifetime, like two lifetimes, like forever. 

_I could live and die in his gaze_ , Monty thinks.

He tells him so, and the beaming smile he gets from Percy is so, so worth it. 

An hour or so later, Monty glances around at the kitchen, proud at only leaving it in slight disarray. They had run through an entire carton of eggs, evidence of burnt attempts scrapped in the trash. In front of them sits two fried eggs. One of the yolks had already burst, slowly spreading until it had engulfed the other in a pool of yellow. He’d popped it while transferring it from the pan to the plate. The final step, he was so close, and he screwed it up at the last second. 

Percy, bless him, assures him he likes his eggs like this.

“ _What not intact?”_

_“No, made by you.”_

Later, after cleaning the dishes, Monty flops onto the couch with a huff.

“I didn’t think cooking a stupid egg would be so hard,” he whines. A tuff of hair falls across his eyes, and he blows at it to get back in place. It flops down again after a few seconds, prompting Percy to reach down and tuck it back in its rightful place. 

Percy gently slides down next to him, fitting so perfectly in that empty space until he is nestled just so, long limbs and all, awkwardly wrapping around Monty’s small frame

“Starting is the first step ok?” Percy lifts Monty’s chin to meet his eyes. “The most important one.”

Monty stays silent, enjoying the feel of Percy’s lanky body crawling all over him.

“You just need to use more oil next time.” Monty’s eyes wander south, mesmerized by his lips, watching them form different sounds. “And a little salt wouldn’t hurt either.”

_Oil._ A perfect round _o. Salt_ . A little flick of his tongue at the end. Every word spilling from his mouth, from now till forever, are for _him._

“Monty—” _Monty. His own name._

“Just kiss me you fool,” Monty cuts him off, unable to focus on anything else other than a pair of lips mere inches away from his own.

Percy does, because really, what other option is there?

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. this really took me way too long. I lost interest in this fic some way through and it took forever to get back in the mood. Not sure if I actaully did or just got insanely annoyed seeing this in my docs. Anyways, i started this freaking last year, then summer came and went, i started college, and never got around to finishing this. Hope you enjoy this, I know I don't!


End file.
